


flowers everywhere

by ocaptainrogers



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Flower Crowns, Flowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:58:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocaptainrogers/pseuds/ocaptainrogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the reason this thing happened is because of wing, who wrote me this lovely little snippet today, and i haven't been able to stop thinking about it:</p><p>"aidean hipster au going to coachella with their flower crowns and singing like loonies the whole way home and waking up the whole building and getting a really angry james nesbitt knocking at their door but they just throw flower crowns at him and shut the door because sexytimesssss"</p><p>this is the morning after, when they wake up and find that everything is flowers</p>
            </blockquote>





	flowers everywhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluepeony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluepeony/gifts), [mangocianamarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangocianamarch/gifts), [thorinshielding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorinshielding/gifts).



In retrospect, they shouldn’t have gotten that drunk. Yes, it was _Coachella_ , and, yes, a fair bit alcohol was involved, but this is just a whole new level of drunken shenanigans. Aidan certainly can’t ever recall anybody complaining about finding _flowers_ instead of vomit and other bodily fluids in one’s apartment after a ‘crazy’ night out.

There he is, though, in bed next to Dean O’Gorman and there’s an entire flower sticking out of Dean’s ear. Only the head of it, luckily, and it doesn’t appear to create any discomfort based on Dean’s slack mouth and soft snoring. His face is pressed into the pillow and his hair is sticking out in every angle, and there’s a fucking _flower_ growing out of his fucking ear.

Aidan spends a few moments blinking away the dizziness that follows a heavy night of drinking and tries to come up with a logical reason for that flower to be there. It’s a Peony, and the only reason he knows that is because that’s Dean’s favourite flower. For a moment he amuses himself with the thought of Dean loving that flower so much he decided to grow one right out of his head, but when he chuckles at it his head starts hurting so he finds that it wasn’t that funny after all.

That is also the moment he takes proper notice of the discomfort in his nose, and after a whole minute of sniffling and blowing and picking, he finds a large petal lodged firmly inside his nasal cavity. He stares disgustedly at it for another minute; the wet, crumbled pink petal lying there in his palm.

He’s so busy staring at it that when Dean eventually makes a noise, it’s as sudden as a bolt of lightning from a clear sky.

“What you lookin’ at?” comes the raspy, barely audible question from Dean’s side of the bed, followed by a groan when he opens his eyes and is blinded by the brightness in the room. Aidan reckons it’s noon already based on the angle in which the sunlight hits their white sheets.

He tosses the petal-ball over his shoulder and sags back down onto the pillow. “Found a petal up my nose.”

Dean frowns and Aidan can’t help but chuckle again because his eyes are just two narrow slits under creasing eyebrows. “What?”

Aidan eyes the flower in Dean’s ear for a second and wonders when he’s going to notice it. “A petal. Of a flower. It was pink, if you wanted to know.”

Dean rubs at his eyes. “What did you shove a flower up your nose for?”

“I didn’t shove it up there, I found it!”

“How’d it get in there, then?”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember anything from last night,” Aidan sighs and shoves the duvet down to his thighs and sits up, resting his back against the headboard. He’s tempted to mention the peony in Dean’s ear, but his reaction would be better if he found it himself, so Aidan says nothing.

“Hmm,” Dean hums and reaches up to scratch his head and finding a large flower where his ear should be. Safe to say the reaction Aidan was expecting waned compared to what he actually did.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he screams and grabs the flower and tosses it across the room so fast Aidan hasn’t got any time to react  until he sees Dean sitting upright in the middle of their bed with a finger in his ear. “What the hell was that?”

Aidan, desperately trying to hold in his laughter, can barely breathe where he’s now lying, clutching his stomach. “It was a peony,” he says when there’s a pause in his laughing-fit, and looks up at a very distraught Dean. He’s frowning again. Apparently finding a flower in your auricle must be as bad, if not worse than having a curdled up petal too far up your nose.

“What does it matter what sorta flower it is, it was still inside my fuckin’ ear!” Dean screams and his face is red and angry-looking (that last one probably caused by Aidan, who can’t stop laughing at him).

“If it’s any consolation I had a petal in my nose,” Aidan tries after a while when Dean has calmed down as has joined him at the headboard. “It was fuckin’ far up in there, too, almost didn’t get it out.”

“Was it you?”

“Was it I, what?”

“Did you put it in there? You might think you’re some sort of master prankster, but that one really wasn’t funny, Aid.”

Aidan looks over at Dean and feels a frown of his own coming on. “I didn’t do it, Dean! What, did I shove a fuckin’ flower into my own nostril, too, then maybe?”

“Well, _I_ certainly didn’t!”

They come to the conclusion a half an hour later that there’s no use in blaming the other when neither of them can remember anything that happened after that awful band went on stage around 2AM. Then, after another ten minutes of trying their best to recall anything after that, they get up and decide to make breakfast instead.

That’s when they start seriously regretting their involvement in that _Coachella_ -thing, because their entire flat is covered in flowers and petals. There’s a whole bunch of purple ones spread over the couch, most of them broken. Aidan thinks they must’ve sat on them at some point during the night, but can’t recall a thing, so he can’t be sure.

There is a trail of golden petals leading into the kitchen from the foyer, the sink in their bathroom is spotted with dozens of tiny white petals, as is their mirror, like they thought it looked good and wanted to decorate the whole place with them.

The kitchen counter is also littered with them; red, yellow and purple, all tossed about, it seems, in the most random fashion.

Aidan scratches the back of his neck and squints and the sudden colourfulness of their tiny flat. There are actual flowers lying here and there, mostly peonies and a few daisies and roses. He has a feeling he bought Dean a whole bouquet last night.

Dean sighs beside him. “I’m too tired _and_ hungry _and_ hungover for this shit.”

“At least it smells nice,” Aidan says and picks up a handful from the coffee table. He brings them up to his nose and sniffs them. He thinks about giving them to Dean, but his boyfriend appears to be in a bad mood, and even the peonies don’t seem to help much. “I’ll put the kettle on,” he offers and is relieved to see the tiny smile on Dean’s face at that.

He’s filling up the boiler when he hears Dean mutter from the kitchen table, “How many flower crowns were we wearing last night?”


End file.
